


Unsaid

by Anonymous



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angst, Blind Roy, F/M, Post Promised Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 02:25:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3552536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She is the lieutenant; he is the colonel. There are lines they do not cross.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unsaid

“We’re here, sir.” Riza’s hand is on the colonel’s elbow, guiding him through the door of his apartment. Her own had been destroyed on the Promised Day, and when they were discharged from the hospital, he invited her to stay with him, saying that he had a second bedroom, and it seemed silly, for her to stay in the dorms, when she could stay with him instead, and wouldn’t that be more comfortable, with her still not fully recovered?

No one said that it might be better for him too, not to be alone while he’s still blind, still vulnerable. But Riza knows that the rest of the team had been thinking it, and she had been thinking it, and that he knew the reasons as well. But it’s one of those things (so many things) that go unsaid between them.

He stumbles, then, just over the threshold, and she catches him, arm around his back, holding him up, supporting him. The colonel gives her a small, genuine smile, one he gives to so few people. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Riza says. They stand there like that, and she doesn’t move. She shouldn’t be here. She should have told Breda to stay with him, or Fuery, or Falman. She should have stayed in the dorms, or gotten a hotel. But she can’t leave him like this, not now, not after seeing him pinned in that circle. He’ll never admit it, but she knows he’d been terrified, that he’s still terrified, that the stone won’t work, that he’ll be like this forever, that he will never achieve what they set out to do. And he’d made sure to appear strong to the men, but she knows.

Either way, she will support him.

The colonel coughs and shifts and Riza withdraws her arm. They stand facing each other. He can’t meet her eyes, stares at a point behind her, but she looks into his, blank and flat and grey. “I’ll show you to the guest room.” He moves into the apartment, moving with confidence for the first time in days. He’s on familiar ground now, and she can see that he knows it in the ease of tension in his shoulders as he rests a hand on the couch.

“Would you like anything? Food?” He shakes his head. “Or water, I’m not sure I have any food right now that hasn’t gone bad.”

“I don’t need anything, sir. And I’m sure I can find the room myself, if you tell me which one it is.” The apartment is small. Easy to navigate, easy to secure.

“It’s the second one to the left of the kitchen. There’s a green quilt. The one in my room is blue.” Riza nods, then realizes he can’t see it. She opens her mouth to say something, anything, and finds she doesn’t have the words. What is there to say, after facing the apocalypse and surviving? The colonel doesn’t seem to know either, not moving to his room, but standing there, stroking the fabric of the couch.

“Do you need anything, sir?” She tries to say it neutrally, to not imply weakness on his part. But she worries, leaving him alone. She always worries when she leaves him.

“No.” The colonel takes his hand off the couch, reaches forward with it, then frowns, clenching it into a fist and letting it drop to his side. “I should go to bed.”

Riza struggles for an excuse, any excuse to come with him. “I should check the room first, sir. Just in case it’s been compromised.”

He snorts. “You think there’s a bomb in my room? Very well, lieutenant. You are in charge of my safety, after all.” He gestures with his hand, and she moves in front of him into the room. Riza knows he saw through her excuse, but she thinks he probably doesn’t want to be alone either.

The room she enters does indeed have a blue quilt, and little else beside. She glances at a picture sitting on the desk, of the colonel laughing with the brigadier general, before quickly looking away. Her check of the room is quick and methodical: closet, dresser, bed, desk. There isn’t anything suspicious, but then, she didn’t expect there to be.

“Am I safe to enter?” he says. There’s laughter in his words and she finds herself smiling too.

“The scene is secure,” she says. The colonel does laugh then. He walks towards the bed, letting his leg bump against it, but he doesn’t sit down, just stands there and waits. Riza waits too, but she’s not sure what she’s waiting for, and she doesn’t think he knows either.

Finally, he coughs and says, “Thank you, lieutenant. Truly. If you need anything, please let me know.”

Riza knows he expects her to leave him. She isn’t sure if he’ll actually sleep, or just continue to sit there mulling over the events of the past few weeks, and plotting, always plotting, for the future. Either way, she should leave him. The colonel isn’t in danger anymore, no matter how her heart pounds at the thought of leaving him alone, remembering the circle, and thinking that she might lose him forever.

She doesn’t move.

“Lieutenant?” he asks. He isn’t facing her, not really, body tilted towards the window. She should go to bed; they only left the hospital an hour ago, they’re both tired, and there’s a lot of work still left to do, in the aftermath of the Promised Day.

“Riza?” he says quietly. She swallows hard; he never calls her that. She reaches out for him again, puts a hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t say anything else, just turns his head in the direction of her hand, brow furrowing in confusion.

She knows she shouldn’t do this. They can’t have this; it puts them both in danger. It compromises their goal. They don’t deserve it.

She closes her eyes. She sees the circle. She puts her other hand on his cheek, and he leans into the touch. The hand on his shoulder slowly moves to his neck, then his cheek, then threads through his hair, cupping the back of his head.

“Lieutenant,” he says. Not a question, not a command. Just a statement, and perhaps a reminder. She is the lieutenant; he is the colonel. There are lines they do not cross.

But tonight, everything is blurred. He can’t see anymore, has lost the vision he has held in front of him since he was a foolish boy, studying alchemy and thinking that if he joined the military, he could use it in the service of the people. She sees more clearly now than ever, no longer that foolish girl who believed that if she learned to shoot a gun, the people she would shoot at would always be bad, and the people she protected would always be good.

They’ve defeated a monster, and they’re closer than ever, and she can’t bear this distance anymore. She kisses him, and he doesn’t push her away. He should, but he doesn’t, so she kisses him again, harder and more desperate, because he almost died, and she almost died, and tonight they are home and they are safe and she needs this, this touch, this affirmation of life between them.

“Riza,” he says, voice rough. Her hands trail back down to his shoulders, and she pushes him onto the bed. He lets her, lying back as she climbs on top of him. She doesn’t say anything, because if she did, it would have to be his name, and she can’t do that, or she’ll never be able to go back.

So instead she kisses him again, body pressed hard over his. For one night, they can have this.

His hands move to the buttons on her shirt, hesitant, questioning. She places her own hands over his, then helps him undo the buttons, and push the shirt aside. His fingers brush over her skin; she wants to feel him too, to feel his heart, still warm and beating under her fingers.

They have lost so much. They still have so far to go. But tonight, they are together, and they are alive.

*

When morning comes, Riza wakes with the sun, while the colonel's still asleep. She dresses in the clothes she’d brought from the hospital, and makes her way to the kitchen, searching the cupboards for coffee. An hour later, he walks slowly into the room, fingers trailing on the wall. He’s dressed, though still slightly rumpled from sleep. She sets the mug heavily on the table.

“Lieutenant,” he says, looking in her direction, into the light of the window behind her.

“Colonel,” she responds. She looks straight at him. “Would you like some coffee?”

He smiles at her. She stands and goes to the counter, pouring it into a mug. She walks over to him, presses it gently into his hands.

“Thank you,” he says. She nods, and is glad that he can’t see.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [To Be Alone With You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4124626) by [Suzume](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suzume/pseuds/Suzume)




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